


In A Hotel Bar

by Uhmkiki



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Closer - The Chainsmokers, F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 10:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10010009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uhmkiki/pseuds/Uhmkiki
Summary: Indie is in love with Michael, so much so that she'd leave just so he'd pursue his dreams instead of staying with her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> http://www.polyvore.com/now_youre_looking_pretty_in/collection?id=5851241
> 
> I'm lame and make outfits cause it helps my anxiety sooooo...

He was perfectly fine before he met me. Absolutely fine actually. He had big things ahead of him, and me, I completely fucked it up for him. Plan A at least. 

Michael was incredible. Like a million humongous galaxies pulled into one crazy boy with the greenest eyes, and the prettiest smile. He was talented, and funny, and charming, and god damnit he was perfect. 

He was unpredictable and it drew me to him like a moth to a flame. Every week his hair was a new color. You never knew what crazy adventure he had planned at any given time. The only thing that really stayed the same were his black skinny jeans with the holes in the knees, his ripped up band tees with flannels over them, and the pair of black vans he'd worn to death. 

I met him my freshman year of high school. Little fourteen, well really nearly fifteen year old Indie, scared of being herself was enthralled with the senior with the bright red hair. The boy who seemed to know who he was.

I wanted to be like Michael. He had no fears of being cast out for being who he was. He wanted to dye his hair dark with one streak of blue and put some feather extensions that only girls my age wore, in? He did it. He wanted to wear his pikachu onsie to school? He did it. He wanted to scream sing the Barney theme song down the hall? He did it. He didn't care, because he was him, and he was beautiful. 

I wanted that. I wanted to be able to own myself. Who I went into my freshman year as, was not who I was. I was a picture of "preppy" perfection, with the pleated tennis skirts, Hollister tee shirts, and long chestnut hair. The real me wanted to be as open and free with myself as Michael was. I wanted to not care, but it just wouldn't happen. I was too scared of being alone. 

I also just flat out wanted Michael himself. 

 

Until Michael finally talked to me, and it all changed (besides my crush on him). Well, it didn't happen right when he talked to me, since it was a casual little "hey," as he walked down the freshman corridor to the lunch room (he caught me staring at him), but it didn't take long. 

The "hey's" turned into small talks after we found out we both had lunch at the same hour. Just about classes and what teachers I should "behave" for, and which I could joke around with. Then, it turned into him walking me to all of my classes, and learning about me and what I liked and vice versa.

"So this," he said gesturing to me, "is an act? The pink and the girly?" 

"Not entirely." I shrugged, suddenly feeling ashamed of myself for faking my way through life. "I like pink, and I like girly, but I hate skirts and my hair has been natural colors my entire life, and I don't like boy bands like my friends do. But I'm afraid they'll stop talking to me if I'm 'not like them'. They aren't exactly the nicest to people who 'aren't like them.' They already 'make fun of me' for talking to you, cause you're apparently the school weirdo. But I'd rather talk to you than them, if I'm honest. I like that you're you."

"You can be you, too, India." He smiled at me. "You'll always have me. Even if I do like you in skirts, and faking your love for pop stars." 

"You're going to college next year, and I'm stuck here with people who will become my enemies if I change." I grimaced as I looked at my feet. It pained me to know he wasn't going to be with me everyday. That I only had months to find out all I could about the boy with the X tattooed on his finger.

"Maybe I'll flunk my senior year three times just so I can stay with you." He said as he nudged me with his elbow, a small, toothy smile gracing his cherry red lips. "I'll be a super-super-super senior. I'll even make myself a cape, since that sounds like a super hero name."

"Michael, you can't do that. And I won't let you if you try. As thoughtful as it is, you're too good for that. I'll get through it, being this me. I've done it for four years, what's another four?" I replied, looking up at him. 

It'd never registered to me how tall he was. I mean, I knew he was tall, but right now he looked like a giant. A beautiful giant, and my best friend. And Jesus, did I want to kiss him, but I didn't.

"You have to be you, India. You'll hate yourself for hiding it. And so what if, E...Erika? And Gianna? Don't like you anymore. You are the best, this you, and the real you. Anyone would be lucky to call you their friend." 

That's when it changed. It was almost over night that I became someone else. Someone... Free. 

Michael had accompanied me to the mall right after school, both of us jumping into his beat up old pick up, flinging our book bags into the back seat. He sat in a million different stores as I tried on outfit after outfit, asking every time I exited a dressing room if I felt like 'me' in each one. 

And then the big part came the next day. 

"No slide into self realization is complete until you cut or dye your hair." He said, twirling a lock of my long hair around his finger from his drivers seat.

"I'm not taking length off of it. I like my long hair too much to go short." 

"Do what feels right. You'd look cute with bangs. Maybe go blonde and then I can dye it for you, whatever color you want?" He suggested. 

And it felt right. So I did it. We went and I got blunt bangs with two little pieces that framed my face, and bleached my hair until it was almost white. I felt new. 

"Do you like it?" I asked Michael as he sat on my bed, early the next Monday before I debuted my new look to my school friends. 

"I love it. Not just the new clothes or hair, I love that you look happier. You look like this is who you were supposed to be." He said as he hugged my waist, his head on my stomach. 

"And it's all thanks to you." I grinned down at him. 

 

True to my suspicions, Erika and Gianna casted me out of their clique. And that was fine with me. I had Michael, and now I also had Michael's friends. 

"Y'know, I gotta be honest. When Michael first started talking to you, I thought you were going to be a bitch like those girls you hung out with." Luke, one of Michael's best friends said. His other best friend, Calum shook his head in agreement.

"I told them you weren't!" Michael said, like he was worried I was going to be offended. But I wasn't, because that's what everyone thought. Erika and Gianna were bitchy so why would they hang out with someone who wasn't. 

"That's fair enough, and thank you for defending me." I smiled at Michael. I guess I swooned too long, and so did Michael, because Luke and Calum both asked if we were going to kiss.

I looked at Michael in surprise. I wanted his kiss so badly but I wasn't sure that he wanted mine. 

"Fuck it. I've waited too long for this!" Michael declared as he smacked his hands on the table. Once he was on my side of the table he started to look anxious, but he pushed through it. He cupped my cheek in one hand, the other resting at the nape of my neck before he pressed his lips to mine. 

I felt like my heart had stopped. I was in pure ecstasy. This is what I'd wanted all along.

 

Every kiss from Michael felt like that, even when we'd kissed a million and one times. Every touch of his finger tips set my skin on fire. For five months, I was happier than I'd ever been. Michael treated me like a queen, and I treated him like a king. I'd found my niche. 

I found out a lot of things about Michael that he'd somehow withheld from me during long car rides where we overplayed every one of Blink-182's albums. Like that he was in a band, with Luke and Calum. And that he has a third best friend outside of school named Ashton. I also found out that he was very good at art, and that if being in his band didn't work out, he wanted to be a tattoo artist. 

No matter what Michael did, I said I'd support him, because I honestly thought I would. That was until I realized that he'd be _leaving_.

February was the worst month of my life. All of my horrible nightmare thoughts that I made myself believe we're just results of paranoia, came true.

5 Seconds of Summer, as Michael, Cal, Luke, and Ash, had deemed themselves, got noticed by a record label. And with that record label came the news of, 'We're taking you out of school early. You'll do your lessons on the road as well as your exams. We're leaving for London in a month." 

I felt my entire world shake in earthquake like tremors and the fault line was splitting right between me and Michael. 

"I'm not leaving her." Michael said, directly to the boys manager. "I can't leave India here in Australia. I'm not leaving if she's not leaving with me." 

"Michael! You can't do that!" I gasped. "This is what you've wanted! All four of you have been waiting for this for longer than I've known you. You can't just give up on it for some girl!" 

"You aren't just _some girl_! You're my whole world, India! How can you not see that? I'm head over heels in love with you and my vision of a perfect life ends with you coming everywhere with me. I know 5 months isn't long, and you're young, but I need you by my side for the rest of my life."

And I panicked. "Michael, no. I love you too. More than you'll ever know, but no. I'm not ruining your dream. They're not going to let me go with you and we both know it. Just go and be the best rock star you can be." 

And I ran. I ran as fast as I could from the meeting. From Michael's puppy dog eyes and heartbroken whimper. I felt like shit but I couldn't stay. I couldn't be the reason he refused to be _him_.

 

I laid very low as the people around me talked about how Michael's heart was broken and how he'd reluctantly went off to be a rock star. 'He's going to be the new Taylor Swift. Writing break up songs about how Indie ripped his heart out.'

I hated it. I hated listening to people talk about me as if I wasn't there, but that's exactly what I wanted. I wanted to stay off the radar and not be noticed. But then people realized that I was, in fact there, and they started asking questions, all while Michael blew up my phone, Twitter and Instagram, begging me to just stop and come visit him. He missed me, and God did I miss him. But I couldn't mess it up. If I visited him he would leave London when I had to and that wasn't what I wanted for him. 

But I guess it didn't matter what I did, going to London or not. Because Michael came back to Australia anyway, a month into a giant tour with One Direction. 5SOS had gone as quickly as it rose to fame. I'd kept my tabs on Michael, silently. And it seemed he was a wreck, a semi-successful one, but still a wreck. It seemed that no matter what I did I would endlessly be the cause of Michael's pain. 

With the endless stream of questions from classmates driving me absolutely insane with guilt, and the chance of running into Michael at any point in time, there was only one thing for me to do. I packed up whatever I could fit in two suit cases and left. I got on a bus and went wherever it went. 

One day he tweeted me randomly after having given up for a few months. 

"I've searched high and low for you in Sydney, India. Please just tell me where you are and that you're okay! I'm more scared than ever." 

And I couldn't help but tweet back. "I'm fine. In Melbourne." 

Then Calum and Ashton and Luke started bombarding me with direct messages saying Michael had given up on pretty much everything. That he barely went out, just sat in his room and _tried_ to play video games.

I realized that I'd ruined a perfectly sunny boy. A boy who had so much life in him before me. And I'd ruined myself too.

I talked to him through that year. Just small texts telling him I was still okay and that I had a job and how I'd dropped out of high school, but I never went into great detail in hopes that he wouldn't come looking for me. And never once did I tell him how torn up I was about hurting him like I had. I told him that I'd already ruined one of his dreams, so he had to pursue another one. That he couldn't let go of everything over me. Just like he told me I'd hate myself for not being me, I told him he'd hate himself for not being him. 

And I guess it worked, because he stopped contacting me. 

He managed to 'find' me in Melbourne two months after the new year, even though he didn't realize it was me, thank the lord. It obviously wasn't his intention, he wasn't looking for me. Some thing was different about him, and it wasn't just his hair, like it always used to be. He was thinner, more grown up looking and, God, did it fucking kill me because he looked beautiful, even if he was heartbroken. But that's when I knew I wasn't far enough away. So I took my beat up little Honda and moved on. 

This time I had more to leave with, thank god. It was hard living off Macca's and Cup Noodles for the first three months, with only five outfits and my tooth brush. 

Unfortunately for me, I'd been living on a couch for the whole year I'd been gone, so I stole my roommates mattress while she was at work, packed my stuff in _boxes_ and headed off to Perth. 

I made it four whole years without seeing or hearing from Michael. I worked in a Hilton hotel, bar tending every night. I lived right down the road in my own apartment, with a semi good view of the beach. Everything seemed to be looking up and I no longer let my feelings of guilt about Michael and the band consume me like I had in Melbourne.

 

"My god." I heard a groan from the other side of the granite bar top. 

I immediately rolled my eyes as I felt the mans gaze zeroed in on my ass. 

"What'll it be?" I asked as I continued pouring different alcohols into a shaker for one of my regulars who seemingly lived at the hotel. 

It was crowded to say the least. A tattoo convention's first day had just come to a close and now they were all filtering through the bar, loud cheers coming from all around the loud space. 

"Jack 'n Coke. And a heads up on what time you get off work." He sounded proud of himself for his line, though I hadn't found it smooth.

"Later than you'll be conscious." I said back, handing a Sidecar to the man I see for four hours straight every night. His name is Joe and I think he's drowning his loneliness in Cognac. 

"Oh well that's no way to treat a man, Princess." The other man said, and the way he says princess makes me want to cry. It sounded exactly like Michael. 

"Jack and Coke coming up." I said with a shaky voice, refusing to turn around. 

Something inside me had said earlier in the night that something was going to happen but I couldn't put my finger on what. And my mum always told me to trust my gut instinct. 

I turned around and it was like I saw a ghost, the glass I had in my hand dropping to the floor as I looked at the boy -now the man.- that I used to love. 

It was Michael. But the change was even more drastic this time. His hair was bleach blond and he had piercings and tattoos all over.

He was wearing a ripped up tank top that didn't hide very much of his torso. He had sleeves on both arms. They looked like they worked their way down his back and they definitely cascaded down his chest. He had his eyebrow pierced still, but now he had snake bites that he was chewing on. He had gauges, and an industrial bar in one ear, and his daith, rook, and conch pierced in the other. I watched closely as he spoke to Luke, who was standing next to him, noticing the snake eyes at the tip of his tongue. He was obviously here for the tattoo convention. 

"Sweetheart? You good?" Joe asked, breaking me from my examination of the new Michael. 

There was broken glass and sticky coagulating alcohol all over my feet and the floor. 

"I-I'm fine." I smiled at him reassuringly.

Now there was a war in my head over whether I was going to make my identity blatantly apparent to Michael or if I was going to leave well enough alone. Who knew what could happen? What if the boys hated me for breaking up the band? What if they were happier with me out of Michael's life? 

But he noticed me first. It was like something knocked the alcohol out of him and made him sober up on the spot. His eyes went wide when he looked into mine. 

"Holy fuck." He said as he smacked the blond mans shoulder repeatedly. "Luke, LUKE, LUKE!" 

I felt like I should run, but there were only three of us working the bar. 

Luke spun around, a slurred "Wha?" Leaving his mouth before his eyes set upon me. And then there was another "Holy fuck." 

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. They were starting to tear because that was exactly what I hadn't wanted. I thought I'd gotten far enough away that our paths would never intertwine. 

"Indie." He breathed, almost leaping over the bar before Luke pulled on his shirt. He was crying in a matter of seconds. 

I opened my eyes again, blinking the tears away and trying to muster up the courage to actually speak to him, afraid my vocal cords would let me down. 

"M-michael." I stuttered. "Y-you went with plan B?" 

It was all I could say. I was just short of breaking down and crying in the pile of glass underneath me. 

"That's the last thing I care about." He said, looking me over quickly. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he spoke. "I thought you were gone forever." 

The tears streamed down his cheeks, which made me cry harder. "I'm so sorry." I sobbed, covering my face with my hands. 

"No, no, no, no!" Michael said. "Do not be sorry. Don't. Indie, I'm just so fucking happy I found you. Please just come to my room when you get off. I need to talk to you. We need to talk about everything. Please?" He was almost begging and I couldn't say no. 

He slid his room card across the counter and watched as I put it in my pocket. "I'll be waiting up for you." He said, wiping at his cheeks with a small smile. 

The whole night passed in a blur and both of my co-workers asked if I was okay. I was completely out of it the entire night as I thought about how dangerous this could be for the both of us. He barely knew me and I barely knew him anymore. Or so I thought.

It hit 12:30 and I almost left the hotel. In my head it would've been easier to leave him disappointed, than to watch both of our hearts break all over again. But I didn't, I turned around as I reached the revolving door and got into an elevator. 

Unbeknownst to me for the first minute, Luke was in the same elevator. 

"Indie?" He asked as he tapped my shoulder. 

"H-hi Luke." It was more than just awkward. I felt like my body would combust from the pure discomfort I was feeling. 

"Indie, he's in deep. He's in horrible condition. All he does after work is drink. He downs Jack Daniels like its water. He's been like this since you stopped talking." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

Luke looked the same. Still had his lip pierced, except now he'd added another ring to the other side. And now he had small gauges in his ears. 

"I-I I don't... What?" I asked. 

"Michael's becoming an alcoholic and I don't know how to help him, Indie." Luke sighed. "No one does. He just keeps saying he'll get better once he has... You. And I know I can't make you feel something for him after everything that's happened. You'd have come back if you felt something right?" He sounded panicked, like Michael's life depended on my answer. 

"Luke, I never stopped feeling something. I've felt everything for Michael since the day I ran out of that board room. I love Michael so much but I didn't want him to not do something he wanted to because his fifteen year old girlfriend couldn't go with him! Michael's dreams are more important." I was on the verge of tears again. No one ever understood why I left, why I did what I did. But I knew Michael wasn't going to go unless I wasn't around. I did what I had to, to see the love of my life get what he deserved. 

"Just... I don't know. I just hope things work out." He sounded defeated. 

The elevator reached Michael's floor a short while after Luke and I had finished talking, or so I thought we had. 

"Indie?" He asked again, as we both went to exit the cart. 

I looked at him, brows furrowed. 

"For what it's worth, Michael's not the only one who missed you. And none of us blame you for what happened with the band." A smile formed on Luke's face, and suddenly a little bit of hope had made itself at home in my heart. 

"I missed you too." I admitted, wrapping my arms around him. 

"Now, go fix Michael." Luke said as he let me go. 

 

"Michael?" I asked as I opened the door. 

His hotel room was dark. The only light coming from the bathroom, the door a tiny bit ajar. 

"Michael?" I asked again as I got closer. 

"Indie!" He gasped as he pushed the door open. He was covered in blue hair dye, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. As dumb as it sounds, considering I was now twenty, it was the first time I'd ever seen Michael, or anyone, so close to _naked_ and it took me by surprise. He was covered in tattoos, my suspicions of his sleeves turning into a back and chest piece correct.

All of his tattoos were beautiful. All somehow connecting together even though they were all different. Video game inspired sleeves, somehow morphed into a space scene across his back and random intricate things on his chest that I was too preoccupied to figure out yet.

"Why are you dying your hair at 12:45 in the morning, Michael?" I asked him as I leaned against the door frame. 

"No slide into self realization is complete until you cut or dye your hair." Michael said, eyes bloodshot as he watched himself in the mirror. He was still drunk, and he'd missed more than a few spots at the back of his head. 

"And what self realization is that?" I asked, still a little tense at seeing him again, but somehow it felt natural to be there with him. 

"Well i's not really a self realization, I guess?" He stated, eyebrows pulled together in thought. "More of a "I know what my future's going to be"." 

"Suddenly psychic Clifford?" I asked.

"Or psycho? But anywhoooo... I'm settled now. I know where my life is going and it's goin' places where you can come with me." He hiccuped a few times. "I have my own business, Ind." He oozed as he continued to pour dye on his head. 

"Yeah?" I asked. I had to take his suggestions lightly. I didn't know who drunk Michael was. I'd only seen him slightly intoxicated once, and that was at Christmas. 

"Yeah!" He chirped. "Own my own tattoo shop. To The Moon, i's called. 'Member how I used to tell you I love you to the moon?" He asked, face suddenly sinking. He held his left arm up and showed me the words "to the moon" permanently inked into his pale skin, a midst the video game characters and logos.

"I do Michael. I remember. I'm so glad you're doing good." I sighed, trying to hold back tears. Even when I wasn't there, when I was trying to block out thoughts of him, Michael was thinking of me. 

"'D be doing better if I had you back." He sulked. 

"Michael..." I said, feeling my heart rip. 

"It's the truth. I drink a lot. Luke's scared. But I told him that I'd stop if you were with me. Been so worried about you." He said as he stared sullenly at me through the mirror. 

"You don't even like blue." I said as I looked at his hair. I was trying to get off topic.

"But you do." He mumbled. 

"Don't dye your hair for me, Michael. Be you." 

"Me is trying to make you love me." And then my heart literally broke. 

"Michael, I never stopped. Not even for a second. I've loved you since the day I first set my eyes on you. I'll never stop loving you. But you're drunk, and this is a conversation for tomorrow. So why don't we just wash the blue out of your hair, and you can go to sleep? You can come to my apartment tomorrow and we'll tal-" 

"You're gonna help me?" He asked. 

"I'm gonna help you." I said. "Come on, stick your head over the tub and I'll wash your hair." 

"Can't we shower?" He asked, a smirk forming. 

"Oh, no. No, we can not. How do you manage to be horny while this heavily intoxicated?" I asked, as if he'd care. 

"Just am, pretty girl." He shrugged, his head now over the tub like I'd asked him to do. 

"Tell me if it's too hot, Mikey." I said as I turned on the faucet and took the cup he had from what I was guessing was a beer. I rinsed it out before letting it fill with water in the bottom of the tub. I wasted no time in actually washing his hair. I wanted to get him in bed as fast as I could, because I was eager for our talk. 

As much as I didn't want to ruin Michael all over again, I wanted to be with him so badly it hurt. 

"Nah, i's good." He almost purred as I ran my soapy hands through the dye-saturated hair. "Feels damn good. Missed you playing with my hair." 

"I missed playing with your hair too, Michael." 

He let me do what I needed to, practically falling asleep as I blow dried his hair. I loved it, because it wasn't fully blue. He'd managed to miss so much of his hair, and I made him wash it out so quick that it looked like it was faded in some spots.

"Gon' stay with me tonight?" He asked as I wiped the dye off his skin. He'd managed to get it all over his chest and his back, though his back wasn't very noticeable given that space is notoriously dark. 

"No." I sighed, "You and the boys are gonna come to mine tomorrow and we're gonna talk and it'll be nice." I smiled, now guiding him to his giant hotel bed. 

"We're in the convention though?" He quipped. "We have a booth and we're doing fifty percent off tattoos." 

"Shit! Forgot you're here for a reason." I sighed. "There's a two hour break in the middle of the day for lunch! I'm not working! I'll come find your booth, and you and I can come back here and talk." 

"Sounds like a plan, but can you cuddle me?" He asked, giving me the most pathetic set of glassy green eyes and the booboo lip. 

"Not for long." I sighed, giving into him. "Move over, bed hog." I giggled. 

He moved over and held up the duvet so I could slide in with him, after kicking off my shoes. Immediately both of his tattooed arms were circled around my waist, holding me tight to his massive body. It once again brought me back to the realization that Michael was much taller than I was, and he'd only gotten taller since high school. 

"Missed you so, so much." He yawned, his big cushy bed's powers taking over him. 

"I missed you too." I sighed, pressing a kiss to his forehead before he finally fell asleep. 

When the kid slept he was like a damn brick. He didn't move, and he didn't wake up for anything, so I easily slipped out of his arms. 

Though it was wrong to go into someone's phone without consent, I needed to make sure someone knew the plan if Michael didn't remember what happened. So I took Michael's phone off his nightstand and texted the more responsible of the boys. 

To: Ashweinie  
Remind me tomorrow that Indie is coming to the booth before the lunch break and that we're supposed to go back to my room and talk. Do it as soon as you see me. Gracias.

Sleep had never been something I couldn't do. I always managed to be exhausted enough to pass out as soon as I hit my pillows, but not that night. I tossed, and turned, and rolled, as I thought about Michael. I thought about everything he'd said, and what he could say tomorrow. For all I knew, tomorrow when he was sober he could tell me he hated me.

 

I was scared. Terrified actually, as I walked down the road. A sober Michael could be completely different to a cuddly, inebriated Michael. But I still forced myself to the hotel at 11:30 and started my search for the To The Moon tattooing booth. 

Panic set in as soon as I found it, and found Michael staring straight at me. 

"Indie." He sighed happily, almost dropping his tattoo gun. He was in the process of tattooing a pug on a man's calf. "My god, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Michael." I smiled, suddenly feeling less apprehension about talking to him. "I like your hair." 

"I had a little help with it." He smirked. 

He finished his tattoo in minutes, quickly wrapping the man's leg in plastic wrap so he could come study my face.

He was so close to me, but he wouldn't touch me. "I-I can't believe it's you. You're actually here. You're not fake?" He asked, reaching out to touch my cheek, but he stopped himself. 

"I'm here, I'm real, Michael." I said as I pressed my cheek to his hand. I couldn't help the tears that rolled down my face. Michael enclosed me in his long arms and squeezed me like he was afraid I was going to disappear. 

"No, Indie don't cry. I'm trying to be a strong ass man here." He chuckled, voice wavering.

"I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm so happy to see you." I sighed, wiping at my eyes.

"That's an understatement for me." He sighed, pulling me back against him again.

The lunch break had started and everyone from the convention was filing out, going to restaurants and bars. But Michael and I went to his room.

"I still can't believe you're here." He breathed once the door closed behind us.

"I can't believe this was all by coincidence." I said, sitting on the end of his freshly made bed. "I'm sorry Michael. I'm sorry for so many things, it's ridiculous. I'm sorry that I left the way I did during that meeting but I knew that if I didn't, you wouldn't have gone. And I'm sorry I made you so sad that you left the tour with One Direction. And I'm sorry I haven't called you in four years. And I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." It all came out fast, like verbal diarrhea, and I was practically sobbing out of nowhere because I hadn't started with tears. 

"It's all forgiven. I don't care. You're talking to me now." He said, rushing to wrap me in his arms again and soothe me.

"Michael you can't just forgive me like that. I hurt you!" I gave his chest a push so I could look at him.

"You have my forgiveness India!" He insisted 

"But how far does forgiveness go Michael? I ruined your shot at fame and recognition that you deserve. I almost ruined you entirely."

"Forgiveness goes as far as I did to find you. Do you think that I just sat around and let you go that easy? I flew home from London every chance I got. I went everywhere short of school because they would've kicked me out. I forgave you the moment you left that meeting. I was never even mad. I was heartbroken that my true love left, but I knew it was with good intentions. Things with 5SOS just didn't work out because I was sad, and it isn't your fault. You did what you thought would be best for me, even if it wasn't you. And that's what love is! You love me! And I fucking love you, to this day! I always have and I always will."

He looked angry. His usually bright eyes were dark and he was yelling. But not like he was mad. More like he was frustrated.

"India. You're my reason for trying. I made this life that I have now because of you. _For you_. If you hadn't told me to be me when I left the 1D tour, I wouldn't have gone anywhere. I'd still be just outside of Sydney, in my room or probably dead! You told me that I had to be who I am and I did. I did all of this because of you. I'm in love with you and all I need to know is if you'll leave Perth and come home with me? I have more than enough of everything -money, space, time, _love_ \- to take care of you. This is my dream, now. To have this shop, and to have you. That's all I want. Okay, maybe I want some kids and a cat too, but I dunno how specific we wanted to get." 

The tears were still pouring down my face, but I couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled in my throat. 

"I don't know what you have here, what kind of life you've made, but I know you've never felt complete since you left. You told me once when we were texting that you felt empty now, and I don't think that's a feeling that just goes away. Correct me if I'm wrong." His hand came to rest on my knee. He rubbed small circles, making me recall every lunch hour I'd spent right next to him, and every car ride, and every cuddle on my living room couch. 

"I have a shitty apartment, though it does have a view, a mattress that I stole from my roommate in Melbourne, a Range Rover that the man at the dealership down the road said I'd be able to afford but can't, stuff that was given to me from the lost and found when no one came to claim them after four months, just enough pots and pans to make living by myself do-able, and some clothes. And no, you're not wrong. Not wrong at all, Michael." 

"You can bring whatever you want. I'll hire a moving van. I'll have your apartment torn off the damn building if it means that you'll come back to Sydney and be my girlfriend again. Please, Indie, please!" He begged. 

It didn't take much thinking anymore. Something inside of me remembered what mum told me about trusting my gut, and my gut was telling me that Michael was it. Michael was everything. Until I remembered his drinking. 

"Michael, are y-you an alcoholic?" I asked, taking his hand in mine. 

His face dropped, and he looked incredibly guilty. "I... I don't think so. I just couldn't find anything else that would numb the pain. I can stop. I'll stop for you! I swear!" He said, gripping my hand tighter than any vice probably ever could. 

His eyes were wide and glazed over again, and the look of his face screamed for me to stay. He just stared at me, as tears flowed freely down his now reddened cheeks. 

"I can change for you." He sniffled. 

I hadn't said a word of what I was thinking, hadn't told him if him maybe being an alcoholic scared me or not (it didn't.). But he was acting like I was already half way to Darwin. 

"I'll come back to Sydney, and we'll work on it together." I said, wiping his tears away as I pulled him into me. 

He cried, I cried, and then it turned into giggles of happiness and love. 

"Fuck, I'm so glad you said you're coming home." He sighed as he ducked his head into my neck, before pushing us backwards so we were laying on the bed. "Are you still the same India who can't stand skirts, doesn't like boy bands, and hates vegemite? Do you still love Blink, and horror movies? And when did you get that tattoo?" 

It was like Michael was afraid that we didn't have enough time to reacquaint ourselves with each other, even though I just said I'd move back to a place I hadn't been for almost 6 years. 

"Michael, slow down." I giggled. "I'm still me, kind of. I still don't really like skirts, but I'm warming up to the idea of them. Boy bands don't bother me anymore. I will never like vegemite. Yes, I still love Blink-182, and horror movies, and I got this a few months ago. And what about you? You were almost tattooless when I left, and there certainly weren't holes in your face like this. Have you stopped singing and playing guitar or will you still sing me to sleep? Do you still detest running and going to the gym? Do you still remember the words to Lullabies by All Time Low? Do you still put ketchup on your mac'n'cheese and French fries on your burgers from Macca's?"

"I still sing and play guitar. I'll sing to you any time. I've a love-hate-relationship with running and the gym, but I do both. I'll never forget the words to Lullabies because I know you love it. Yes, I still put ketchup on my mac'n'cheese and French fries on my burgers. Just like you I'm still the me you've known for years, kinda."

He fell silent as he looked me over, taking in every inch of my body. He looked like he was in awe. 

"You've changed so much. I knew you were always going to turn out beautiful, but you're down right radiant, Indie." He whispered, his face close to mine. 

I closed my eyes as a burning red took over my cheeks. 

"You always did blush at compliments." I could hear the smile in his voice. "My beautiful, beautiful girl." 

"Y-you've changed more than I have. You're so much taller and leaner and you look like a man, Michael. Look at your arms, all of those tattoos. You're... Perfect." 

 

I felt his hand run over my cheek, and down to my neck. His fingers brushed against my skin, making goosebumps rise. And then his lips were back on mine for the first time in what felt like centuries. 

It was like a weight was lifted off of me when he kissed me. I felt genuinely forgiven, and loved. It was blissful, slow, and passionate. I heard a chorus of metaphorical angels sing, but it was actually just Ashton telling us that people were already back at the booth and our two hours were up. 

"I was hoping to get a smoke break in before I had to go back to the booth, but oh well. I'm glad I spent all two hours with you." He sighed, pushing us up to a sitting position again, me cradled in his arms. 

"You smoke?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as we both stood up and started for the elevator. 

"Just weed. I barely ate when you were missing, so Calum decided to see how I liked it, and it turns out I really like it. And it gives me an appetite. You don't mind right?" He asked, now lacing his fingers through mine. 

"Weed is okay." I shrugged. "I'm also going to force feed you for the next, like month."

"No, you won't. I finally lost my belly fat. I don't need it back." 

"I liked your belly fat." I said, poking his significantly smaller stomach. "So soft and cute."

"Says the girl whose skin feels like cashmere." He scoffed, pulling me closer to him so he could wrap me up in his arms again. "I never want to let you go, not ever again. I'm gonna make you stay right next to me for the next year." 

"Yeah? I'm gonna sit right next to you while you tattoo people? Just sit there and look pretty?" I asked, a small smile on my lips.

"Well no. But I do want you in the shop. I just love you so much and I want to make up for the five years I've missed." He murmured quietly.

"I'm just gonna sit there though? Waltz around your shop and have no life?" 

"No. I was thinking maybe you could be my receptionist or if you wanted to you could go back to school? I remember you saying you wanted to go back when we talked..." 

"I don't have it in me to go back to high school, Michael. I've tried. I enrolled myself in Melbourne, and I made it a week before I started to hate it. I'll be your receptionist or I can find a bar in Sydney. I'm a certified mixologist." 

"Bars equate to a big room filled with the devils drink and perverted men." Michael said, shooting me a small glare. 

"You were one of those perverts last night!" I laughed. 

"Yes but I am a better person now than I was last night, therefore it's forgiven and I'm not like them. But for real, I really want you to be my receptionist. I'd love seeing your beautiful face every time I leave my station or office." He grinned as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. 

"I'll give it some thought, Mike." I smiled widely at him as we approached his booth. The line of people waiting for a To The Moon tattoo was ridiculous. 

"I take it your shop does well then, Mikey?" There were a lot of people I knew standing in the line, just staring at me and Michael. It felt like I'd been stuck inside of a space time continuum and time was frozen with all eyes on me and Michael. 

"Aye!" Calum shouted when he caught sight of us, breaking the feeling of frozen-ness. "Does this means things are going good?" He asked, gesturing to Michael's arm around me. 

"It definitely does. I'm moving back home." I smiled as I unraveled myself from Michael. 

A small whine left the blue haired man, and he tried to pull me back in. 

"You need to work!" I giggled. "I'm gonna be sitting next to you the whole time. Let me hug the boys. I missed them too."

Once I'd finally unhinged Michael's death grip on my waist, I went to sit with Luke and Ashton. 

I felt like things with Calum and Ashton would be weird. Sure, I knew them, mostly. A lot could change in five years though. And I was definitely closer to Luke. 

"Well there's a sight for sore eyes!" Ashton smiled, wrapping me in his long, tattooed arms. "Mikey convince you to come home?" 

"He did. Doesn't take much though, when the only boy you've ever loved is standing in front of you, I guess." 

The uneasiness I felt evaporated after that. It was like I'd never left Sydney. We all joked around as they all tattooed and pierced people right in front of me. 

"She's gonna be my receptionist." Michael grinned as he spoke to the man laying on his tattoo chair. 

"She your girlfriend?" The man asked, looking in my direction. 

"Well..." Michael said, before furrowing his eyebrows. "I asked her before and she never really gave me a yes or a no. Indie, will you be my girlfriend?" 

Not only was the man staring at me, but the entire crowd waiting for tattoos, and the boys were too. 

A small smile played on Michael's lips as he watched me blush and giggle behind my hands. "Yeah, I'll be your girlfriend Michael." 

"Good cause I wasn't going to let you say no." His smile grew wider. 

 

"Who are these people anyway?" Michael asked as we walked hand in hand to a restaurant down the road from my apartment. 

"Just some friends." To say I was nervous to let Michael meet them was an understatement. I hadn't made many friends in Perth but I did manage to find three that I actually liked.

They weren't exactly the nicest crowd of people, but they were nice to _me_. One, Kelly, was a sugar baby, who frequented the bar with her sugar daddy. The second, Hudson, was a drug dealer. Coke mostly, but he'd never touched it in his life so he said. And the last, Jake, was an alcoholic, who also frequented the bar.

 

"Can I get some back stories, maybe?" He asked.

"Mmm, no. You'll see when we get there. I'm sure they'll tell you anyway." 

He and I were early, just to make sure we got a table without a problem. 

"You're nervous, little one." Michael said pointedly as he leaned against the table. 

"No, I'm not." I said as I quickly pried my hands apart. I guess I'd been wringing them together. 

"Your hands are bright red, India. I'm not stupid." Michael smiled. "Why are you nervous?"

"I... They're..." 

"Here." Hudson said, a hand coming down on my shoulder. 

I kept my eyes on Michael as the tree of them sat down. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at them, but he was smiling, so I thought it was fine. 

"So, Ind, we all don't talk for a day and suddenly you're spoken for?" Jake asked as he sat down next to Michael. 

"It's a long story." I smiled, cheeks heating up. "This is Michael, guys. Babe, that's Jake, Kelly, and Hudson."

"It's nice to meet you." Michael nodded, a smile on his face. 

"So, Michael... what do you do?" Kelly asked, narrowing her eyes a little. 

I knew her accusatory tone was going to piss Michael off, and it did. I could see it in his face. He sucked in his cheeks and tilted his head up. 

"I own the best tattoo shop in Sydney. And you?" 

"I'm unemployed..." She said a little sheepishly, as she cast her eyes down to the menu in front of her. 

"No shame in it. It takes time to find a job." Michael shrugged. "And what about you two?" 

"I sell medication." Hudson smirked. 

"Why are you smiling like that?" Michael asked.

"Cause he's a fucking drug dealer!" Kelly scoffed. 

"And you're a god damn sugar baby! You aren't even looking for a job!" Hudson challenged. 

"And what about you?" Michael said, interrupting Hudson and Kelly squabbling. 

"Trust fund baby with a drinking problem." Jake nodded. "I figured I'd spill my faults on my own instead of letting these asshats do it for me." 

Michael just looked at me, and smiled one of those cute little nervous smiles. I could tell he was uncomfortable with the kind of company I'd come to keep. 

 

Lunch seemed like it dragged on forever. The three of them did nothing but embarrass me and make Michael uncomfortable with the overly personal stories they told. 

"I'm gonna excuse myself. Something's made my stomach upset." Michael said as he nodded his head toward the bathroom. His bulging eyes, and tight lips told me that he wanted to cut lunch short, and I didn't blame him for a second. But I still had yet to tell them I was moving back to Sydney in the morning. 

"Hope he's alright. Maybe it was the shrimps?" Jake said as he watched Michael walk away. 

"He'll be alright. Not a big lactose person, might've been the cheese." I smiled nervously. 

I knew Michael wanted to leave, and now would be my only chance to break the news that I was leaving. It wasn't a big deal to me, considering I _obviously_ , never had a problem just up and leaving people I liked before that, but I knew the three of them didn't really have anyone else. They had connected to me more deeply than I had to them, but it still sucked to have to say goodbye.

"I have to tell you guys something." I blurted in the middle of Hudson telling the same story about his one customer that he's told us a million times. "I'm going back to Sydney with Michael. We leave tomorrow." 

They all just stared at me, wide eyed and silent. After a few minutes I excused myself saying, "I'm gonna go check on Michael..." 

"Took you long enough." Michael sighed, "I've been standing back here for fifteen minutes." 

"You have not." I said, pursing my lips at him. "I just told them what's going on and they all just stared at me..." 

"That's better than them getting mad... but I still want to leave, love. They're worse than the boys. I still don't understand how you put up with that. There are so many people in Perth." 

"I like them, Michael." I shrugged. 

"Well then, tell your friends I said it was nice to meet them, but I hope I never see them again." 

He and I rejoined them at the table, all of them with teary eyes. 

"Are you really leaving, Indie?" Kelly asked, swiping at her cheeks. 

"Yeah, I am. I'm gonna miss you guys but I have to do this. It's time." I gave them a sad smile. "But Michael genuinely doesn't feel well right now, so we're gonna go but I promise you'll get at least one text a day from me checking in on you guys."

Michael pulled out his wallet and left more than enough money to pay for all five of us on the table. I gave them each once last hug before following Michael out the door. 

 

Together with all the boys, we packed my entire apartment up. It hadn't even been that empty when I moved in, it seemed. I stood by the window, just looking out at Perth in all it's glory. I'd miss it, but not as much as I'd missed Sydney and Michael when I was gone.


End file.
